Healing
by princegeorge
Summary: After Matthew's death, Mrs Crawley can't cope and is slowly falling apart. Dr Clarkson is trying to find just the right way to help her.
1. Chapter 1

Healing

Chapter 1

**A/N After Matthew's death, Mrs Crawley can't cope and is slowly falling apart. Dr Clarkson is trying to find just the right way to help her. **

It was a nice, clear day, but he felt his good mood falter as he approached the house. The gardens were well tend, roses in full bloom, sunshine everywhere, but the house remained sombre and in mourning. As was its occupant.

Dr Clarkson sighed and knocked. Moseley opened the door.

'Is Mrs Crawley in?' he asked.

Moseley sighed, stepped aside to allow him entrance and closed the door.

'She is, Dr Clarkson, but I'm afraid she might not want to see you now,' he whispered.

'Nothing has changed then, has it, Moseley?'

'No, Dr Clarkson. When a visitor announces himself in time she gets up and dresses and receives them, that is if she wants to see them at all… lots of times she tells me to send them a message she's indisposed. Other than that, she doesn't leave the house or sometimes not even her dressing room and doesn't want to be bothered.'

'Thank you Mr Moseley, but I will see her as her physician,' he said.

'I honestly don't know what we could do anymore,' the butler sighed.

'Just as long as you know what not to do,' Dr Clarkson remarked. 'Please don't tell her it's such a lovely day and she should enjoy it. That would only result in her having another cry.'

'I know, Dr Clarkson.'

'Mrs Crawley? It's me, Dr Clarkson. May I come in?'

'If you must,' the answer came, rather impolite. He went inside.

The curtains were opened and she was sitting in het wingchair near the window, wrapped in her dressing gown, hair uncombed. She was looking pale and she had lost weight, but worst of all were her empty, staring eyes. His heart cringed at the sight of her. He sat down beside her and took her hand in his, and so they sat for some time. She never said anything, but every now and then a tear fell from her lashes. She couldn't stop crying.

'Isobel,' he tried. She sighed. 'I just can't, Richard,' she said. 'I just can't. Please leave me be.' He stood from his chair. 'I will be back next week,' he promised.

She gave him a shadow of a smile and he left the room.

He walked back to the hospital, feeling extremely worried about his friend. The same scenario had been playing for months now. The visits left him drained, still he went to see her every Tuesday afternoon, rain or shine, hospital bursting with patients or not. He felt it was just about the only thing he could do; letting her know he cared.

TBC

**A/N Please tell me what you think! **


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you all who read this and reviewed! **

With a heavy heart he entered his office at the hospital, only to be presented with an urgent request for a home visit.

'At Downton Abbey? Who is it now,' he asked the nurse, feeling tired.

'It's the housekeeper Dr Clarkson. Mrs…er,'

'Mrs Hughes,' he added. Now that was something new. That woman had the strength of an ox. A fellow Scot she was, too, not that it made any difference of course.

'Did they tell you anything about the symptoms?' he asked, and smiled when the nurse brought him a cup of tea and a sandwich. It was her way to tell him there was no need to neglect his own health as well, and to at least take a small tea break and have something to eat. She reported: 'She is feverish, very much so since after noon. According to the housemaids she appeared to be not very well for the past days, although she never said anything.'

'Well, why am I not surprised,' he said, while savouring his tea and sandwich. 'You know, nurse Evans, you get to know your patients after so many years. That stubborn woman has to be half dead before asking for any help at all, so I'll go see her right away.' He stood up, checked his bag and headed for Downton.

~oOo~

Since he came to see one of the servants, he presented himself at the back door. No need for the staff to make any extra efforts, he had always thought.

Today however, he was greeted by an unusually hasty footman. 'Oh Dr Clarkson, come in please. Mr Carson, it's the doctor! Mr Carson will see you, excuse me doctor,' and away the footman was.

'Dr Clarkson!' the butler boomed, 'I am glad you were able to come right away. Mrs Hughes has been taken ill and at a most inconvenient time, I must say. The family are having a hunting party this weekend, many guests are staying over and we are understaffed as it is. I hope you'll be able to patch her up quickly, because we can't miss anyone now.'

'I'll see what I can do,' Dr Clarkson said, somewhat surprised. 'First I would like to see her, however.'

'Of course. Lily!,' he barked at one of the younger maids. 'Please escort Dr Clarkson to Mrs Hughes' rooms and come back at once. And should you see Anna, tell her I need her immediately!' The young maid nodded and rushed up the stairs as if the devil was at her heels.

She paused at one of the doors in the servants attic. 'This is Mrs Hughes' room, sir.'

He knocked and went in with the maid, and they found Anna in the room, sitting next to the bed and trying to make the patient drink some tea.

'Anna, Mr Carson needs you at once!' the young girl piped.

'Thank you, Lily,' he said and she rushed off.

Anna looked tired and almost as white as the clean sheets she had brought to the room, and he pushed her into one of the chairs. 'What's going on here?' he asked. 'I have been trying to look after Mrs Hughes,' the maid said, 'but I'm hardly given any time. Mrs Patmore has been checking on her as well, but as you have noticed, after five minutes someone starts shouting they need us elsewhere, mostly Mr Carson.' She sighed. 'I am worried about Mrs Hughes, doctor. I think she is very ill.' He smiled at the girl. 'I will examine her now, Anna. I believe I can manage on my own, given the circumstances. You may go, Mr Carson needs you. I will look after Mrs Hughes and report to Mr Carson after I've finished.'

'Thank you Dr Clarkson,' Anna said and left.

~oOo~

Mrs Hughes, it's me, Dr Clarkson,' he informed her.

He pulled a straight wooden chair to the bed, sat down and finally had the chance to examine the patient. He started by just observing her. She was burning with fever, and breathing heavily. He removed the thick comforter and replaced it with an single sheet, relieved to see she was only wearing a cotton shift. He took a towel, poured cool water from the pitcher on the nightstand over it and gently washed her face. He lifted her head and flipped the pillow so her head lay on the cooler side now, and he gathered the tangled locks of dark hair and placed it over the pillow.

She didn't say anything, but looked more relaxed.

'Mrs Hughes, how are you?'

No reaction. He smiled to himself and decided for a different approach.

'M'eudail.'

She opened her eyes and looked at him.

'I'm glad to see you're awake. I need to examine you, Mrs Hughes,' he informed her. She didn't answer him and so he took her wrist and counted. Too fast. He took his stethoscope and placed it on her chest. 'Please sigh,' he asked. She didn't react. He put his hand over her nose and mouth for a few seconds, let go when se started to squirm and sighed alright. What he heard made him frown.

He put the thermometer under her arm and made sure she lay as comfortable as possible.

'I don't need your exact temperature to tell me you're seriously ill, Mrs Hughes,' he said. 'It will only help to convince a certain butler that you are. I think you are having a bad case of pneumonia. You need to stay in bed for at least two weeks.'

She didn't say anything, and that confirmed his thoughts. He removed the thermometer and

read her fever at 40.2 degrees. Once more he dabbed her face and neck with the cool wet towel, then he wetted his handkerchief and placed it on her forehead. 'I will leave now, but I'll make sure you are being cared for,' he promised.

~oOo~

In the servant's hall he asked for a word with Mr Carson. 'How is she doctor? I need her on her feet as soon as possible,' the butler growled. 'I'm sorry Mr Carson, but at the moment I am unable to patch her up, as you put it earlier,' he felt his irritation grow. 'In fact, if things continue to go as they are now, there's a chance she'll never be on her feet again. She is very seriously ill and she needs constant care!'

'I can't miss any of the staff to look after her now! We expect many important guests, a Duke will staying at the house, and…'

'And a Duke getting the wrong fork is more important to you than the life of your housekeeper?!' Dr Clarkson almost shouted the last words. 'I see Mr Carson! Very well, you take care of your Dukes and I will take care of your Mrs Hughes. Good day to you!' He felt a grim satisfaction to see the butler blush slightly. 'I didn't mean to…, of course we all want Mrs Hughes to get well…' he actually stumbled. 'That's alright Mr Carson. Now I need to use the telephone. There's one in your pantry I believe?'

He asked to be connected to Crawley House. 'Moseley? It's me, Clarkson. Please get Mrs Crawley ready to leave. I am in need of her skills. I'll come over right away to fetch her!'

**A/N Mr Carson is a bit of a prat in this…I hope he comes around ****. **


	3. Chapter 3

Healing

chapter 3

**A/N Kind of what you'd expect…. **

Moseley put down the telephone and sighed. Almost impossible to carry out, this order was. Get Mrs Crawley ready to leave, indeed. Most days they were lucky to make her leave her bed at all. But he knew Dr Clarkson's regular visits had been helping her, even if he couldn't do anything but being there.

She never had said so, however Moseley had noticed a difference in her after the doctor's visits. Less tears, sometimes even a request for tea. And he had noticed the signs of disappointment, should the doctor arrive much later than his usual time.

So now, Dr Clarkson told him to get Mrs Crawley ready to leave, because he was in need of her skills. And he'd be over to collect her within the hour.

Moseley ascended the stairs and knocked on Mrs Crawley's door. He had been there just half an hour earlier, took away the tray whereupon some food had actually been eaten, and had been dismissed for the evening.

'Mrs Crawley. Might I come in?'

'For heaven's sake Moseley, why must you? I am preparing for bed!'

'I'm sorry milady, but Dr Clarkson just called. He said he's coming over to collect you. He is in need of your skills, he said. He asked me to prepare you for leaving. Are you dressed milady, or should I send Miss Brown over?'

'What does Dr Clarkson want from me? What exceptional skills of mine does he need? Crying is my best skill, besides being miserable and feeling useless. Please tell him I can't do anything for him Moseley. Thank you.'

'Very well, milady,' Moseley said and left. There wasn't much he could do about it now. He hoped Dr Clarkson would be able to shock her into action. He had sounded very determined on the telephone.

~oOo~

Within half an hour, the doctor arrived. 'Good evening, Moseley. Is Mrs Crawley ready?'

'I'm afraid she is not, sir. She ordered me to tell you her only skills at the moment are crying and feeling miserable, and she isn't able to help you. I'm sorry sir,' he said.

'Oh don't be sorry, I was expecting that,' Dr Clarkson said. 'Fact of the matter is I actually need her nursing skills, very much so. Do you happen to know what she thinks of the Downton Abbey housekeeper, Mrs Hughes?'

Not at all understanding where Mrs Hughes fitted in, Moseley just answered, 'I believe they are on good terms, sir.'

'That's good enough for me,' Dr Clarkson said while starting to climb the stairs. 'I am going to take her to Downton, Moseley. You will be assisting me.'

~oOo~

'Mrs Crawley, may I come in? It's Dr Clarkson!'

Isobel jumped when she heard the knock on the door, followed by his request, and then she frowned. 'I told Moseley already I can't help you, doctor,' she said. 'Please leave now.'

'I'm sorry, but I can't! I have an urgent case for which I need a qualified nurse. You are the only one fitted for the job!' he said to the door.

Isobel rolled her eyes. 'Don't try to tell me I am the only nurse in the county, I know that to be nonsense,' she replied.

'I didn't say that, I said you are the only one fitted for the job. Over at Downton Abbey a woman is going to die if we don't intervene. It's the housekeeper, she is seriously ill with pneumonia and as it is, she is just abandoned to her fate because there's a big event coming up and Mr Carson can't spare anybody. And even if he did, she needs a professional nurse!' he pleaded at the door.

The room remained silent for minutes.

'It is Mrs Hughes?'

'Yes, and that is another reason why I need you to go over there. You have the authority to actually make her do as we tell her. My available nurses are all very young and just not firm enough with patients like her. She would send them away as soon as she's able to speak again, and get up to work. You know the type.'

Another silence.

'Please Mrs Crawley, if you'd just come with me and see her. I would appreciate to hear your opinion on the case!'

That did it, he supposed, because after yet another silence she gave in. 'Oh, all right then, I'll go with you but only to see her, mind you, because I don't suppose you will leave me in peace if I don't. Give me ten minutes,' she said.

At the other side of the door, Moseley and Dr Clarkson shook hands.

~oOo~

It was around eight when they reached Downton Abbey. Choosing this time to present themselves at the front door, Dr Clarkson felt some kind of grim satisfaction at the look on Mr Carson's face when he noticed Mrs Crawley.

'We weren't expecting you milady, I'm sorry, I will inform his Lordship at once.'

'There's no need for that Mr Carson, we're here to see Mrs Hughes. Kindly inform his Lordship of that, if you please. Is there a maid available to take us up to her room? Thank you,' and with that he marched up the stairs, Mrs Crawley in tow.

A young maid escorted them to the right rooms, he knocked and they entered without waiting for an answer.

The sight was even worse than he expected. No one had been checking on her since he left, that much he could see. She was no longer burning with fever. Her body had tried to cool itself by sweating heavily. The sheet that had covered her had fallen on the floor and now she lay on the bed, her shift and the sheet drenched in cold sweat, shivering and panting.

He looked at Mrs Crawley, and was happy to see what he had hoped for.

Nurse Crawley emerged from the shell of a woman he had known for months now.

'Good heavens, what's going on here!? Get me clean sheets and a nightgown for her! And a wash basin. What are they thinking, leaving her to herself like that! I…'

'Don't be hard on the staff, Mrs Crawley,' he said gently. 'They do what they can, honestly, giving up their own rest to do so.'

As if on cue, the door opened and Anna came in, carrying a tray with tea and toast and a towel over her arm. She jumped when she saw the other visitors.

'I'm sorry Dr Clarkson, Mrs Crawley, I just wanted to see to Mrs Hughes a bit before we have to clear the dining rooms,' she whispered, 'I am so worried about her Dr Clarkson, I think she is badly ill and we can't…'

'I understand, Anna,' he reassured her. 'I know both you and Mrs Patmore have been taking care of her as good as you were given the opportunity. Mrs Hughes is indeed very ill and that's why I brought Mrs Crawley here,' there he interrupted himself. He didn't know for sure yet she would accept the task. But she smiled at him.

'I will look after her, Dr Clarkson,' she said. 'We will nurse her back to health and it Anna, thank you and Mrs Patmore, you have been doing your utmost. I might need your help occasionally though. Now, I need to take care of my patient.'

She took the towels, clean sheets, soap and the wash basin and set to work.

'Now my dear, we have to get you out of these sweaty things and clean you up.'

'Nae weel,' a very soft whisper moaned.

'What was that?'

'She said she's feeling ill,' Dr Clarkson explained.

'Oh you poor thing, of course you are, we'll have you comfortable right away…'

~oOo~

He nodded at Anna and they left the room.

'Mr Moseley will come over to bring Mrs Crawley's things,' he told Anna as they ascended the stairs.

'I will leave now, but I'll be back tomorrow morning. Thank you Anna, and good night to you.'

**A/N That's it for now….Happy new year! Please please please review, especially when you think I'm doing unspeakable things to the English language… x george. **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**A/N Thank you for your kind reviews! Lord and Lady Grantham's views on the matter…and some more. Not mine, have fun, **

The next morning, Dr Clarkson arrived at the Abbey just after breakfast time. He pondered whether to take the back or front door this time and chose the front door.

Mr Carson opened the door.

'Good morning Dr Clarkson, you came to see Mrs Hughes I assume. How is she?'

'I don't know yet, Mr Carson. I need to see her first.'

Was it his imagination or was the butler anxious to know?

'Of course you do, however, his Lordship would like a word with you.'

Not any anxiety about the housekeeper's fate then; just His Lordship Wanting a Word. The doctor sighed inwardly.

Carson led him into the library, where he met Lord and Lady Grantham.

'Good morning, milady, lord Grantham…' he began, but was cut of immediately by the Earl.

'Dr Clarkson, I can't imagine what's gotten into you this time!' Lord Grantham said angrily.

'…Milord?'

'I was utterly surprised when I met Mrs Crawley this morning at my own breakfast table, looking as if she spent half the night awake. Carson told me you asked her to help you with Mrs Hughes, but he thought you'd brought her home afterwards.'

'It would appear Mrs Crawley shared my opinion that the patient was in dire need of immediate care,' Dr Clarkson answered with dignity.

'Are you aware of the fact that Mrs Crawley is the grandmother of the next Earl of Grantham?!' Lord Grantham fumed.

'Of course I am, milord,' he answered, not knowing what was going on.

'And yet you think it's appropriate to make her look after a servant?!'

Lord Grantham shouted the last word as if it was an insult. As if he had lead Mrs Crawley into a brothel.

'I asked her to take care of Mrs Hughes, and she agreed,' he admitted.

'Four days ago we invited Mrs Crawley to our party and she declined, saying she wasn't feeling strong enough. And you just drag her from her house to play nurse to a servant.'

Again he spit out the word as if he was disgusted by it.

Dr Clarkson began to feel a slight irritation.

'I asked her, and she agreed, Milord,' he said once more.

'I don't care if she did! You shouldn't have asked her! You've humiliated her! I will not have...'

'Robert, calm down please,' Lady Grantham put in. Dr Clarkson suppressed a smile. Her smooth American accent sounded like music to his ears.

'I will not calm down over this. The family is insulted! I will…'

'Oh, do stop it Robert!' Lady Grantham said impatiently.

'I'd say Cousin Isobel is perfectly able to speak up for herself. And Dr Clarkson says she took on the job voluntarily, she said so herself, what's the big deal?'

'The big deal, as you put it, is that the Earl of Grantham's grandmother is cleaning up after a servant! That is simply unacceptable!'

'But it's Mrs Hughes,' Dr Clarkson blurted out.

'Is she a servant or isn't she!'

'She is, milord,' he confirmed.

Much to his own surprise, the room fell silent.

'Mrs Hughes is seriously ill Milord. She needs expert nursing care, or else she might die. As of yesterday she was left to her fate, I'm sorry to say so. Your staff were extremely busy making arrangements for the weekend, still some of them managed to slip into her rooms for a few minutes with tea and sweet words but that's not enough. I decided to ask Mrs Crawley, because she is an excellent nurse.'

'Don't tell me there weren't any other nurses available, because I…'

'I agree with Dr Clarkson,' Lady Grantham interrupted him. 'This is just the thing Cousin Isobel needed.'

Her husband raised his eyebrows at her.

'This is what Isobel needs? I don't..'

'Haven't you noticed, Robert? ' Lady Grantham frowned. 'She was wasting away. Dr Clarkson did exactly the right thing. He pulled her out of her grief just the right way, making her feel she did matter again, making her a nurse again.'

'She would have come out of that somehow. She doesn't have to play maid!' he kept sulking.

'It is not unlike her work in the hospital, during the war,' Lady Grantham pointed out.

'That was different,' Lord Grantham insisted. 'Those were brave men, who got injured while fighting for their King and Country!'

'And now it's Mrs Hughes. Good heavens Robert, you have no idea at all what goes on under this roof, have you. Carson for one would be at a complete loss without her, that's all I have to say about that. '

'Nonsense, Carson is the butler and he..'

'I am not going to discuss this with you anymore Robert, I'm sorry,' Lady Grantham said impatiently.

'Dr Clarkson, you have my full support to take advantage of Cousin Isobel's nursing skills. I know she will take good care of Mrs Hughes, and if it's not too much trouble, I would like to visit them both after lunch,' Lady Grantham smiled at the doctor.

'I'll inform Mrs Crawley, Milady,' he said. 'Thank you for your support. I should see my patient now, excuse me please,' he nodded and left.

'Cora, that is… I forbid you to…'

'Oh please, Robert. Knock it off,' Lady Grantham said, sounding tired.

~oOo~

A maid escorted him to Mrs Hughes' room where he found young Daisy building a fire. She quickly got to her feet when he came in. 'I'm sorry Dr Clarkson, Mrs Crawley asked me to build a fire while she went to freshen up a bit, she thought the room was a little chilly and Mrs Hughes is asleep so…'

'That's alright, Daisy, 'he smiled and went to see the patient. She was indeed sleeping peacefully, so he sat down next to her bed and waited for Mrs Crawley's return, while letting his thoughts wander over the discussion in the library.

It occurred to him his position was somewhat unique. As the doctor, he had all the inhabitants of this house under his care. Ladies or footmen; when taken ill they became his patients and he took care of them, and so he had been visiting both the upstairs and the downstairs regularly during his many years of practice.

He had been disappointed and a little angry at Lord Grantham's ranting about his actions, but now he slowly began to understand. Lady Grantham had said it: her husband really had no idea what went on under his own roof. No doubt he appreciated the staff, but he was oblivious to the finesses. Lady Grantham however was not, she had surprised him when she stated Mr Carson would be lost without the housekeeper. Not because of the statement itself, he knew it to be true, but because her Ladyship had noticed.

Lord Grantham couldn't think past the insult of The Next Earl's Grandmother being made to clean up after a servant, but Lady Grantham could.

She had seen how badly Mrs Crawley was suffering, and she acknowledged Mrs Hughes' position in the household; so much more than just the housekeeper. And like him, she had seen past status, had just seen the perfect opportunity to help them both.

He wondered briefly whether it was due to her American roots, but abandoned that idea when he suddenly realised the Dowager Countess would agree as well.

~oOo~

'Good morning Dr Clarkson,' Mrs Crawley entered, smiling and looking freshly scrubbed.

'Good morning Mrs Crawley. It's good to see you again,' he said warmly.

**A/N Chelsie? Richobel? Who knows? please please review! x george **


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**A/N Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!**

'How has she been?' Dr Clarkson asked.

'We've had a rough night,' Mrs Crawley answered, 'her fever has been running up, and she had a chill. She's not been fulyy conscious yet.'

Mrs Crawley arranged the bedding and stroked the patient's hair.

'I believe, if she were left to her fate like she was, she might have died during the night,' she whispered.

'She survived, thanks to you,' he said.

'No thanks to Cousin Robert,' she snorted. 'Has he been very much His Lordship to you?'

'I suppose so,' he answered.

'He almost fainted when he saw me at the breakfast table this morning,' she told him. 'Mrs Hughes finally fell sound asleep around seven, I thought I could have a bit of breakfast before the family woke up. Alas, no. He was livid with me and even more with you.'

'His Lordship informed me of his displeasure,' he smiled, ' very thoroughly so, but Lady Grantham said we have her full support and she asks your permission to visit you both this afternoon.'

Mrs Crawley smiled.

'Did she? Dear Cora, of course she'll be welcome, that is if Robert allows her to.'

'I have the impression she doesn't value his opinion in this very much.'

'Poor Robert,' Mrs Crawley sighed. 'It's so hard for him to accept things aren't as they used to be anymore. The times are changing so fast and he can't keep up. Or he just doesn't want to see it, I don't know. We're not in the 1890's anymore, everyone understands that, except Robert.'

'And Mr Carson,' Dr Clarkson added.

She laughed. 'Oh yes, let's not forget him. Sometimes I don't know how he keeps himself up.'

'Lady Grantham made an interesting remark this morning. She said Carson would be lost without Mrs Hughes.'

'And she's right,' Mrs Crawley answered. 'Carson is the perfect butler, he's a walking etiquette book and that's a good thing. But Mrs Hughes is common sense and practical, with a good heart and a gentle soul. She can make him behave like a human being somehow, the staff downstairs would either hate him or be terrified of him if it wasn't for her. And he doesn't even know it.'

Their patient stirred and Mrs Crawley turned her attention to her.

'How are you, my dear?'

She opened her eyes and looked at her visitors, seeming not to recognise them.

'Agnes?' she whispered.

'I'm here and Dr Clarkson is too. You are very ill, do you know that?'

She blinked.

'You need to drink something,' Mrs Crawley told the patient, 'let me help you up. Dr Clarkson could you hand me that pillow…? Thank you.' She deftly arranged the pillows so Mrs Hughes sat up and could drink more easily.

'What is going on?' she murmured.

'You have pneumonia, Mrs Hughes,' Dr Clarkson informed her. 'I want you to stay in bed, sleep and drink tea and let Mrs Crawley take care of you. I will be back this evening to see you again.'

'Keep her in bed Mrs Crawley, you know what to do. Good day to you both.'

~oOo~

Mrs Crawley went down the kitchens to see the cook about her patient's diet. 'Honeyed tea, some toast, cooled water, and lots of fresh fruits.'

Mrs Patmore nodded. 'And some broth I think?' she said.

'Indeed, she needs extra salt,' Isobel smiled.

The butler came in, surprised to see her in the downstairs.

'Mrs Crawley, you cold just have rang for a maid,' he said.

'From where, Mrs Hughes's room? I didn't notice a bell-pull there, Carson.'

'Of course not, I'm sorry. How is Mrs Hughes?'

'Not well at all I'm afraid, but she may survive. Dr Clarkson and I will take care of her, so your staff won't be bothered,' she answered curtly.

'I'm sorry Mrs Crawley, we wish her well of course, but you'll understand, with the party and all the guests coming, I can't spare anyone…'

'I see,' she cut him off. 'however there's one thing you could help me with, I suppose. Can you tell me her given name?'

He looked shocked. 'No one has called Mrs Hughes by her first name since she became the housekeeper, due to her position she is to be addressed…' he began lecturing, but she cut him off once again.

'And I suppose no one has been giving her sponge baths either, since then,' she snapped, 'but I did and I need to know her given name, Carson.'

He hesitated, but she stared him down.

'It is Elsie,' he finally growled.

'Thank you Carson.'

~oOo~

'Hello Isobel, Dr Clarkson told me I could come up and visit you both,' Lady Grantham smiled that afternoon.

'It's very kind of you to visit us, Cora.'

'How is Mrs Hughes?'

Mrs Crawley sighed. 'Her fever is building up again. You notice the breathing and those blotches on her cheeks…we're in for another busy night. She's still unstable. I got to sleep a few hours this morning, thankfully.'

'And how are you?' Cora asked her.

'Well, I have to say I'm feeling useful for the first time in months. Just before you came in, I was actually thinking about setting up a nursing school in the hospital here, just a basic course. The first time I made any plans for the future since…' she took a deep breath, 'since Matthew died.' Mentioning his name still brought tears to her eyes, but she smiled bravely.

Cora squeezed her hands.

'I'm happy to hear that Dr Clarkson's plan worked out well,' she smiled warmly. 'Robert is still upset though. He thinks you have been humiliated.'

'I know, and I haven't been. I needed this, although I'm sorry that it took poor Mrs Hughes to fall ill to pull me out of my misery.'

'Oh, I brought you this,' Cora said, producing a large bottle of eau de Cologne. 'It should help bring down fever, I was told.'

'It does, thank you, 'Mrs Crawley smiled, 'the alcohol cools the skin more thoroughly than wet cloths can. We'll apply it at once.'

She poured a good amount in a wash basin and started dabbing her patient's upper body with it. Lady Grantham took another flannel and helped her.

'Heavens, she is burning up,' she said.

'We'll get her well again,' Nurse Crawley answered.

~oOo~

'James, Mr Barrow, good you're still up. I need your help with Mrs Hughes,' Dr Clarkson said, finding both men in the servant's hall later that evening.

'What ever for?' James gaped.

'I want her in a cold bath to bring down the fever, you have to help me get her in.'

~oOo~

'Mrs Hughes?' No reaction. Dr Clarkson tried another approach.

'Elsie?'

'Mmm..'

'Elsie, wake up dear,'

It was an early, clear morning after an eventful night, but Dr Clarkson and Nurse Crawley now believed their patient had been through the worst and would make a full recovery.

Two weeks later she was much better, fevers battled. Mrs Crawley was back full force again, and had started a nursing course at the hospital, Mrs Hughes had to build up her strength and didn't need a full time nurse anymore. All she had to do was sleep well and eat well, and she would be fine. Only she wasn't.

Dr Clarkson found himself worrying again. Mrs Crawley was back on her feet, thank heavens, but now there was another woman who wasn't doing well at all. He was extremely busy, but he managed to visit the housekeeper daily, much to his own surprise.

Carson had already questioned him about it.

'Dr Clarkson, Mrs Crawley told me last week Mrs Hughes was doing well and should recover soon, so why does she still need daily medical attention?'

'Because I don't think she is doing well,' he answered curtly.

'How much longer will it take, do I need to find replacement for her? Because we're a maid short, and…'

'I don't know yet, Mr Carson. I'm sorry.'

He found his irritation with the butler growing almost by the hour. Did that man ever think of anything else but The Family? He had noticed a change in the maid's and footmen's behaviour as well, they had grown skittish around the butler, avoiding him whenever possible. The only one not affected was the cook, so he went to see her.

'Mrs Patmore, what's going on here?'

She sat down heavily at her small desk, and waved at the other chair for him to sit down.

'We have an atmosphere alright, because Mrs Hughes hasn't been around for weeks. Mr Carson is unbearable at times. Well, most of the time, that is. He drones on about duties and honour and drives everyone up the wall.'

'Do you think he misses her?'

'Oh yes, but he doesn't know how much. To him it's like missing his favourite pencil, inconvenient for now but replaceable. He doesn't realise she's the only one who can make him act like human being. The poor woman,' Mrs Patmore sighed.

His eyebrows rose.

'Do you think she cares about him?' he asked.

Mrs Patmore began to carefully arrange a tray and took a deep breath before answering him.

'You know Mrs Hughes,' she said, 'she has a kind heart and she cares about everybody. She's not doing well, and I think it's because she thought he considered her a friend. But to him she's more like one of his ledgers. Just another tool. And that makes her feel so sad, as if she doesn't matter. That's what I think.' She handed him the tray.

'Since you're up to see her, would you take this? Tea, not too strong and milk, no lemon, toast, a good slice of my chocolate cake with strawberry glace…. She likes that,' she smiled. 'And for two I think, yes, that will do.'

'Thank you, Mrs Patmore,' he said.

~oOo~

While making his way up to his patients room, he couldn't stop thinking. He realised he had felt utterly protective of her even since Carson's rude remark about 'patching her up.'

Even more so after he'd learnt Mr Barrow had been the one to actually call for him. He recalled his conversations with Mrs Crawley about young Ethel's fate. Mrs Hughes had been helping the girl long before.

_She is such a gem, and nobody realises it_, he thought.

Suddenly he felt a hot wave of affection for her, breaking loose from a place where it had been hiding for many years.

_Oh, Elsie. My dearest. _

**A/N Please please, do not hate me for this! You know I love your reviews. I will try to explain my wayward ideas…**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**A/N My apologies to anyone I have shocked with the last chapter…. I didn't mean to, I didn't even intend to! Sometimes these things suddenly start writing themselves and I just follow along. On the other hand; of course Clarkson is sweet on Elsie! Aren't we all? So there it is… I do feel sorry for Carson though, and I promise to make it up to him in another fic. **

He found her curled up in the easy chair Mr Barrow had brought earlier, since in her bedroom there were only straight backed wooden ones. Barrow again. He had never particularly liked the young man, always thought him somewhat sly, but even he had showed the patient more kindness that that pompous fool of a butler.

'Hello Mrs Hughes.'

She wiped her face but he had seen the tears. He put the tea tray on the table and took her hands in his.

'Mrs Hughes, what's wrong?'

'Nothing,' she whispered.

'You always cry because of nothing, then?' he smiled.

'No, but it's….I'm sorry. It's nothing, I should not bother you…'

'I am your physician, you're not bothering me at all.'

'I see,' she said.

'Good. Now, what's wrong?'

Fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

'I'm sorry, I'm feeling a bit down, I have had too much time to think I suppose.'

Dr Clarkson knew how to make silence work for him. He just nodded.

'I can't help feeling…I feel so very… Mr Carson didn't think…'

'That's right, he didn't think at all.'

Tears ran down her face.

'All he worried about was the Duke and Duchess, and whether they would be properly served… I know I'm not important, to him only the House is… , and the etiquette, and I don't mind… I just didn't expect they would leave me up there, to …'

He stroked her hand.

'Mrs Crawley told me and I can't stop crying, I can't. What am I doing here? Who cares… I feel so… so…' she whispered, wiping at the tears.

He gave her his handkerchief. 'Don't cry, Elsie.'

'I'll stay here for another, ten, fifteen years or so, till I'm used up and they'll put me in a home, or worse, in a cottage married to some old man, to look after them…'

That was a harrowing prospect, he had to admit. He smiled at her and gently stroke her cheek. 'I can see why you need some cheering up. But ten years is a long time Elsie, and who knows what the future brings. I know you don't feel like it now, but you're a very strong woman, and a kind and beautiful one as well. You will not end up in any home, I promise.'

He almost blushed at his own passionate words and looked away, saw the tea tray and took his time preparing them both a cup of tea.

When he looked up again and handed her the cup, all traces of embarrassment were gone and he was the doctor again.

'There you are, and Mrs Patmore sent you her chocolate cake with strawberries. Mrs Hughes, I understand why you're feeling sad and I thank you for telling me. All I can say now is that you're still very weak, and things may turn out to be not so grim as they appear now. Please, believe that.'

She nodded hesitantly, but for now that was all he could expect, he decided.

'Good. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon and hopefully you'll feel well enough to accompany me in a walk through the gardens. The weather should be nice and we need to get some colour back on those cheeks of yours. Would you do me that honour?'

'Yes, that would be nice, Dr Clarkson.'

**A/N a very short piece for now; more to come. And please, review if you can find the time... CU george**


	7. Chapter 7

Healing ch 7

**A/N Alas, no report of the walk in the gardens… not yet anyway. It proved very difficult to write. Instead Isobel demanded attention. Hope you like it! Nothing belongs to me. **

Isobel Crawley almost couldn't believe the change she had made. Six weeks ago she was ready to let it all go, and now she was well on her way to lead a nursing school at the hospital. She had received permission to set up her small school in the hospital's biggest attic room. Out of the girls that had been interested, she had personally chosen five promising candidates. One of them was Ruby, Downton's former scullery maid. The girl had been suggested as a help for her by Mrs Patmore, who knew she'd been taking care of her mother before going into service and had noticed how unhappy she was in her new position. It had worked out brilliantly. Ruby was a bright girl, she handled the patient with loving care, and she was very eager to learn more. Isobel found she enjoyed the girl's company and together they gave their patient sponge baths and changed the bedding, while Isobel taught the girl how to battle fever. It had brought her back to life and she remembered how much she'd always loved to train students. While working together and teaching Ruby, she found she was able to think about the future again.

Class would start next month and she had been busy writing out her lesson plans. Basic nursing was to be the main subject for the first months, but after that the students would have to be educated in anatomy, physiology and pathology as well. She needed Dr Clarkson's help for that and now she was on her way to pay him a visit.

She knew he had been the one who had dragged her out of her misery. She had been desperate, feeling utterly useless and even the thought of her grandson had made her cry and feeling bereft; the boy was the future Earl of Grantham, to be raised at Downton and had no need for his middle class grandmother.

Seeing the Downton housekeeper, a woman she liked and respected, being seriously ill and left uncared for had finally kicked her back into life. During the hours spent battling the fevers and chills, calming the patient, keeping her comfortable and teaching Ruby how to do all that, her plan for a new future had formed.

~oOo~

She entered the hospital to find Dr Clarkson wasn't present. 'The doctor is making a house call at Downton Abbey,' the nurse informed her.

'At the Abbey? What has happened?'

'I don't know exactly Mrs Crawley, but he should return any minute now,' the nurse answered while checking the clock.

'I will wait for him then,' Mrs Crawley decided.

The nurse seemed to be very accurate, because Dr Clarkson arrived a few minutes later, looking very relaxed.

'Oh, good afternoon Mrs Crawley, I didn't expect you, have you been waiting long?' he greeted her, while inviting her into his office.

'Not at all,' she answered and closed the door.

'What can I do for you?' he asked her.

She told him about her plans for the school and how she needed his help for advanced lessons/ They had a very animated conversation and were able to write a preliminary school plan.

'The nurse told me you were visiting the Abbey earlier,' she said when they were having a tea break, 'nothing too serious I hope?'

'Oh no, I was visiting Mrs Hughes.'

'Mrs Hughes? But I thought she was doing well…has she fallen ill again then?' Isobel asked, startled.

'No no, nothing like that, its just that she is not recovering as well as she should. I took her out for a walk and a bit of air. She needs some extra time and attention,' he assured her.

'Well, I agree on that, they all seem to take her for granted. But since she's not ill anymore, why does it have to be you to give her that extra attention?'

'It's just for now, practise is a bit slow at the moment and I can spare the time.'

He felt uneasy, was he defending himself?

'I suppose so,' Mrs Crawley said and rose from her chair. 'Thank you Dr Clarkson, for thinking along with me about the school. Good afternoon!' She turned and left the room, leaving him clueless.

~oOo~

Mrs Hughes had enjoyed a lovely walk around the rose gardens with Dr Clarkson. They had talked and paused near the lake, where he had produced a satchel containing bread and cheese, and some fresh fruits. He had been very attentive and kind to her. Still, the walk and the fresh air had left her very tired.

Dr Clarkson had escorted her to her sitting room, at her request. She hadn't been there for three weeks and had feared the amount of paperwork and bills that would have piled on her desk, but she didn't want to return to her bedroom just now.

Dr Clarkson must have alerted the kitchen, because Mrs Patmore came in bearing a tray, just when she was eyeing her desk from her place on the settee, not really wishing to face the ledgers just yet.

'Thank you, Beryl,' she smiled at her friend.

'It's nice to see you up and about again. We were all so worried about you,' Mrs Patmore said whilst pouring tea. 'I'm not too pleased your posh private nurse took my scullery maid with her, but if that's the price for her nursing you back to health I won't complain. '

'Dr Clarkson told me she enlisted for Mrs Crawley's nursing class. I'm sorry.'

'Oh, don't be, she wasn't cut out for the kitchen anyways. We've found another girl already, though she doesn't seem to be very bright, that one.'

'You always say that,' Elsie smiled, 'and they always appear to be fine girls after all.'

After some time, tea and pleasant conversation had strengthened her enough to finally face the desk, and she looked surprised.

'What is it?' Beryl asked.

'I don't know…I expected a lot more work here, but it seems ... what happened?'

'Oh, that is Mrs Crawley's doing, I suppose,' Beryl said, 'she wished to make herself useful while you were sleeping, and she kept the household chore book for you. Anna helped her. And Mr Carson has been handling the invoices and the bills, and the laundry lists. And the household supplies, and the maids' working schedules. Anna helped of course, and he gave her and Mr Bates an extra day off together.'

Elsie was utterly speechless and Beryl grinned. 'Surprised, are you? We all were. Bewildered would be a better word. Mr Carson said he did not want you to overwork yourself first thing when you came back to work.'

'…..Mr Carson did?'

'Yes, dear,' Beryl smiled. 'From what I've heard, Dr Clarkson was fairly upset with him because all he kept going on about when you first fell ill was how he could not miss anyone of the staff, instead of showing any concern for you. He was absolutely shocked when the doctor brought in Mrs Crawley to take care of you, her being Master George's grandmother and all.'

'He would be,' Elsie said softly. She sighed. Of course his actions were the results of Dr Clarkson's and Mrs Crawley's lectures. It had nothing to do with her.

'Thank you for your company Beryl, but I'm very tired and I should go back to bed now,' she told the cook.

'Sleep well then. I'll have our new scullery maid bring you supper, her name is Beth and I think she's backward. See what you make of her,' the cook said.

Dear Beryl, she always knew how to lighten the mood, Elsie thought.

But as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, she felt silent tears burning, and her feet growing heavier with every step.

**A/N Go Mrs Patmore! I like her more every time I write her. Thank you all for reading and your lovely and encouraging reviews, x george.**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**A/N Confusion galore…. Even I don't know what to make of this. Thank you for staying with me!**

The next morning Elsie woke up feeling well rested for the first time in weeks, if not months if she had to be honest. The fresh air and exercise had done her good. She blamed her sadness the night before on her exhaustion. If Mr Carson had worked ahead for her, of course it was because Dr Clarkson had warned him it might be too much for her, and he would find himself with an overworked housekeeper within a week. And that would be most inconvenient for the butler. She knew him well enough to know that for him the Family, the House, honour and dignity and duty always came first, second and third.

And yet every time he seemed to act out of kindness for her she found herself hoping, only to have it crushed once more when his true intentions were revealed. She should know better by now, and perhaps it was time to finally face the truth: Mr Carson, the man she had loved secretly for years, did not care about her. She should forget about him and broad her view.

Dr Clarkson's attention and care for her had been like summer rain on parched ground. She had forgotten how it felt to be treated as a woman, instead of a mere member of the staff, an instrument to run the house. Dr Clarkson had invited her for a walk, offered her his arm, told her he was glad she was feeling better, how pretty the pale green shawl looked on her. It had brought on feelings she hadn't experienced in years, but now hit her full force.

He had invited her for a walk the next day, and she found herself making efforts to look her best for him. She had taken a bath and washed her hair. Of course she always did so on Tuesday's, with only one bathtub the female staff had to take turns but even so, she rarely got the opportunity to have a long hot, undisturbed soak on the middle of the day and she enjoyed it immensely.

~oOo~

A knock on the door announced her breakfast and she asked Anna to help her a bit with her hair. The girl grinned and set to work.

Beth, the new scullery maid, had brought her a light supper the night before, just toast and soup, and she had liked the girl as soon as she set eyes on her. She was short and plump, with a pretty face and beautiful blue eyes. She had introduced herself politely to Elsie and expressed her regrets she had to meet the housekeeper under these circumstances. They had talked and Beth had made sure Elsie ate her supper, meanwhile tidying the room, closing the curtains, folding Elsie's clothes, straightening the bedding. Elsie had enjoyed her company and made a mental note to ask Beryl about her standards for scullery maids.

~oOo~

Just after tea time Dr Clarkson finally made it to Downton Abbey. A farmhand had been brought in with a serious thigh injury caused by an axe, just when he set out to visit Mrs Hughes. Luckily it was a sharp axe and it had caused a nice, clean cut that had bled itself clean. Dr Clarkson stitched the cut up, put on a pressure dressing and ordered bed rest, leg up, lots of fluid and temperature checks. Right. A young, strong lad, he would be alright.

He called at the Abbey's front door, just to be able to tell the butler he came to see Mrs Hughes.

Carson had hummed politely.

'Excuse me doctor, we were told Mrs Hughes was doing much better already, but your frequent visits made us worry. Is she getting worse again?'

'No, no Mr Carson, nothing like that. But she needs to build up her energy level very carefully. I believe she wore herself out before she fell ill, and that's the reason the illness hit her so hard. She needs time and attention, Mrs Patmore's soup and daily walks in the fresh air. Since your staff is so very busy I decided to provide attention as a part of my medical care, when the hospital can do without me for an hour or so.'

That wasn't altogether true, because after making sure the young man was taken care of, he had raced full speed towards the Abbey to arrive in time. But Carson did not need to know that.

'Thank you Dr Clarkson, I will let Mrs Hughes know you're here. Madge! Fetch Mrs Hughes please.' The maid scurried upstairs, and Carson turned to the doctor once again.

'So you are sure she is going to be alright, Dr Clarkson?'

'Yes, Mr Carson she will be. Don't worry.'

'Thank you. Would you, ehm, please tell her that we all, ehm, wish her well. And to take her time,' the butler said, while escorting the doctor to Mrs Hughes' sitting room where he could wait for her. 'Please, sit down, Dr Clarkson,' he said, and left without closing the door.

~oOo~

It was a lovely afternoon and the gardens were beautiful, brimming with sunlight and warmth, butterflies and singing birds. The scent of roses filled the air, and the marble bench, shadowed by an old oak tree's branches and overlooking the lake looked just perfect for a rest. Dr Clarkson pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and spread it out on the old bench so Elsie's skirt would not be soiled, and she thanked him with a sweet smile. He opened the basket Daisy had brought after them – compliments of Mrs Patmore- and found fresh fruits, two thick slices of chocolate cake and a flask containing coffee.

'I hardly ever drink coffee, that's a treat from Mrs Patmore,' Elsie said.

'Neither do I, but I'm quite fond of it. And as it strengthens the heart, I now prescribe you a cup,' Dr Clarkson answered. He poured, and they enjoyed their coffee.

She was looking very pretty today, he thought. The dark green blouse matched her auburn hair, which was shining and neat. Her eyes sparkled, she looked relaxed and it was clear she was having a good time. Well Clarkson, do or die, he told himself.

'I would like to thank you for accepting my company, Mrs Hughes,' he began.

'It is my pleasure, Dr Clarkson,' she answered sweetly.

'I am glad. I've admired you for a long time now, and I think you are the one person that keeps this house running smoothly.'

'Well, being the housekeeper I should,' she said. 'But yesterday I learned Mrs Crawley has been counting the clean sheets and Mr Carson scheduled the maids and booked the invoices, with Anna wielding the keys and showing them what to do while I was sleeping all day, so I don't think I am that special.'

He smiled and took her hands in his.

'It's not about schedules and counting sheets, anyone can do that, including Mrs Crawley. It's all about you, Mrs Hughes,' he informed her.

'I don't know about that…' she said, and he squeezed her hands.

'It's true. You are the oil in this machine just by being yourself, your kind and wise self. Without you Mr Carson would be unbearable, the maids would have petty fights and you even managed to win Mr Barrow. You are the most amiable person I know. I admire you for all that, and I came to care a lot about you, Elsie.'

She felt her cheeks burn. 'Thank you, Dr Clarkson,' she whispered, not knowing what to do.

'I would love to get to know you better Elsie, please, would you call me Richard?'

'I would like that…Richard,' she smiled a little shy, 'but I'm only a housekeeper.'

'No, Elsie, you're not. You are a wonderful woman.'

~oOo~

Mr Carson had withdrawn himself in his pantry immediately after dinner, grumbling and growling, much to the annoyance of Mrs Patmore. She knew exactly what irked him, she had seen Elsie smiling, with lovely roses on her cheeks being escorted to the house by a very smug looking doctor, just as he had.

She sighed. The man just had no idea, he was too stuck in his ways. Mrs Patmore prepared a tray, told the girls to finish the kitchen and headed off to the butler's pantry.

She knocked and entered without waiting for an answer, ignored his withering glare and placed the tray on his desk.

'Mr Carson, I will pour you a cup of tea and in return you will tell me how you feel about Mrs Hughes,' she stated bluntly.

'That is none of your business, Mrs Patmore,' he growled.

'Yes it is, because you're being impossible!' she spat. 'If you want that woman you've got to do something about it!'

'What makes you think..'

'Come on Mr Carson, I've known you for years! I know how you feel about her, and you should tell her now if you don't want to lose her.'

Mr Carson sighed. 'I am sure Mrs Hughes knows how I feel about her,' he began and Mrs Patmore's eyebrows rose in surprise, 'I respect and admire her as a fine woman and colleague. She is an excellent housekeeper and..'

'Good heavens, you're hopeless,' Mrs Patmore cut him off. 'Now, I ask you one last time; do you want her? Do you love her? Do you want her to smile at you like she smiles at him?!'

**A/N Thank you for reading, and I absolutely love and adore and appreciate all your reviews. Keep them coming, x george **


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**A/N Mrs Patmore has quite the job to do. **

Elsie had skipped dinner in the servants room and went up to her bedroom instead. She felt tired in a pleasant way, Beth had brought her toast and soup around eight and she was ready for bed at nine thirty. Snuggling under the covers, she remembered the rose gardens, the sun, Dr Clarkson being so kind and attentive, wanting to know her better, telling her how he admired her and asking her to call him Richard. She fell asleep with a smile on her face.

~oOo~

Meanwhile in the butler's pantry, Mrs Patmore crossed her arms and gave the butler a stern look. Her questions had left nothing to the imagination.

And there he stood, clearing his throat and answering; 'I suppose I do.'

Beryl stared at him in utter disbelieve.

'You suppose you do,' she repeated faintly. 'Well, that's it, you are absolutely hopeless. I would have helped you because I know somehow or somewhere you care about that woman and, heavens know why, she cares about you too. She's my dear friend and I want her to be happy…'

'Why does she go out with him!?' Carson suddenly growled.

'Ha! You're a human being after all!'

'She couldn't be fooled by flowers and chocolate!'

'She is a woman, Mr Carson! A living thing!'

' But I don't see how..'

'Of course you don't, that's the point,' Beryl sighed. She sank down on the visitor's chair, uninvited, and began to pour the tea. Mr Carson clearly did not understand what was going on. He accepted the cup of tea she gave him and raised his eyebrows.

'What is it I don't see, Mrs Patmore?' he asked her. Beryl took a deep breath while deciding where to begin. You better appreciate this Elsie dear, she thought. I have a feeling this is going to be hell.

'Please Mr Carson, have a biscuit,' she offered, to buy herself some extra time. He took a biscuit and munched on it, while she took another deep breath.

'Mr Carson, what is it you like about Mrs Hughes?' she asked, dipping her own biscuit in her tea, a habit she knew he found appalling.

'I told you. She is a good housekeeper and a fine woman. A dear colleague and someone to trust and rely upon,' he informed her.

'She is all that, I agree,' Beryl nodded. 'Anything else?' She didn't look at him. He still appeared to be clueless.

'Just because you could say the same about Anna. Or me,' she added, crushing the soggy biscuit with her teaspoon.

'Well, yes, I suppose so,' he had to admit. She felt more than heard his uneasiness. We finally seem to be getting somewhere, she thought.

'So, what is it you like about Mrs Hughes?' Beryl repeated. She leaned back in her chair and started to enjoy spoonfuls of melted biscuit and milky tea, looking like she had all the time in the world.

'Well,' the butler began. He cleared his throat once more but Beryl kept toying with her tea.

'Ahem. Well, I suppose I think she is, well, a wonderful person,' Mr Carson managed to admit.

'Oh yes? Why is that?'

'It's… I don't know exactly.'

Beryl glared at him over the rim of her teacup. 'You have to do better than that Mr Carson.'

'Well… she's always herself, she's not impressed by titles, she judges people for who they are, not what they are ,' he managed, colour appearing above his collar.

'I say, that's nice. Anything else?'

His cheeks suddenly started to burn and his eyes flashed.

'She is the loveliest woman I know, she is kind and sensible and beautiful and I would not know what to do without her,' he burst out.

'That's more like it, Mr Carson,' Beryl said approvingly. 'Have you ever told her that?'

'Of course not. It would not be appropriate,' he scowled.

'And that is exactly why she is having walks in the garden with Dr Clarkson instead of you!' Beryl snapped. 'He tells her he enjoys her company, how he likes to see her eyes sparkle again, how lovely her new shawl looks on her. He treats her like a woman and that's what she is, not some household tool. And if you want to have a walk with her, you now know what to do. Tell her!'

'I have no intention to...'

'Yes you have Mr Carson! It's written all over your face when he comes to see her. Now for once in your life forget about your stupid propriety and just do what you have to do!'

Beryl rose and straightened her skirts.

'I'm off to bed now Mr Carson; early days for me. Goodnight to you and please think about what I've told you. And remember it's all because Mrs Hughes is my dear friend and I want her to be happy!' She turned, left the room, and stormed up the four stairs to her bedroom to let off steam.

That insufferable man! Even now she wasn't sure whether he had any idea what to do. Well, the ball was in his court now. Elsie, you chose the most stubborn and difficult man to love, she sighed. He better be worth it.

~oOo~

The next day was a bright and sunny Saturday. Mrs Crawley had been working on her lesson plans and schedules until well after lunch, and decided she needed Dr Clarkson's input. They needed to make a preliminary plan for his lessons to her students. So she carefully packed up her paperwork and timetables and left for the Doctor's residence.

'Good afternoon Mrs Crawley, I didn't know you were to meet Dr Clarkson. I'll tell him you're here, he was just about to go out to Downton Abbey,' the maid smiled at her.

'Oh dear, not an emergency I hope?'

'No, nothing like that, just a routine check-up I understood, nothing that can't wait. Please come in, Mrs Crawley,' the maid invited her into the drawing room.

Isobel took a seat and sighed. Most likely it was Mrs Hughes he was going to check up on. Isobel liked the housekeeper, very much so, and she suspected she was one of a few that really acknowledged how important this one woman was to the household. Dear Cora did, too, but cousin Robert and Carson had no idea. However, Isobel found she wasn't comfortable with the growing number of visits .

'Mrs Crawley, it's a surprise to see you,' the doctor said as he entered the room.

'I hope I didn't call at a bad time?' she smiled. 'Janet said you were about to see a patient at the Abbey.'

'Yes, well I was about to see to Mrs Hughes, but I suppose it can wait.'

'Is she getting better?'

'She is,' he confirmed.

'I am glad to hear that, she's a kind woman and a good housekeeper. But I would like to discuss the lessons and timetables with you, if it's not inconvenient?'

'Not at all Mrs Crawley, I'd be happy to. Let me ask Janet for tea, and we will give them a good look over,' he said.

'That would be perfect. And since we're going to work together closely, would you please call me Isobel?'

'I would be honoured, and my name is Richard.' They smiled at each other.

Janet brought them an excellent tea and they started to work out the lessons, deciding what subjects to cover and when, making timetables, and planning shifts for the student nurses.

~oOo~

'Will he be visiting her today?' Mr Carson asked the cook anxiously.

'Why do you want to know?' she hissed back.

'Because. If he doesn't, I might like to invite her for a walk. But if he is…'

'Mr Carson, what did I tell you the other day?!'

'Ehrm. Well, you told me to forget about propriety. So you suggest..?'

Beryl rolled her eyes and pushed him out of her kitchen.

'Yes I do! It's now or never Mr Carson. Do or die!'

~oOo~

**A/N Please tell me what you think….. **


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

~oOo~

Elsie had spent Saturday morning at her desk, going over the many books, ledgers and lists she had to keep. Most of them had been taken care of during her illness, but she couldn't resist the urge to check them personally. And some of the more complicated items were left for her. Most of it appeared to be all right, and she spent a good few hours correcting the small mistakes and working to keep her books up to date.

Being in a 'paperwork mood,' she decided to take lunch in her office.

It was a lovely day, she'd opened the window and enjoyed the summer air. Dr Clarkson- no, Richard, she corrected herself, was usually kept busy at the hospital on Saturday's so she didn't expect him, but she'd decided to take her afternoon walk anyway, she had noticed how much good it did her. She felt stronger every day.

~oOo~

In the kitchens, the mood was more stressed, although Elsie was blissfully ignorant.

Mr Carson had been nervous and grumpy all morning, annoying Mrs Patmore to no end. My goodness, she muttered to herself, what is he waiting for, a sign from heavens above? A note of consent? After lunch she decided to intervene – again. Slipping into his pantry while he was going over the menu and wine arrangement for Sunday's dinner, she planted herself in front of his desk, hands on her hips and blurted out: 'Have you asked her yet?'

He jumped, he hadn't heard her enter.

'I…Mrs Patmore, is anything wrong?'

'I'm asking you. Have you asked her yet?' she repeated impatiently.

'I'm sure I don't know what you're…' he began, but she cut him off.

'And I am sure you do Mr Carson. Now, have you asked Mrs Hughes to have a walk with you this afternoon? Because if you don't, I am telling you right here and now I'll push her into Dr Clarkson's arms myself, even if I know it's not what she really wants!'

He stood there gaping at her and she turned, left the room and managed to slam the door not as loud as she would have liked, but just loud enough to have the butler notice she was upset.

He'd noticed.

Really, the woman took too many liberties. Telling, no, ordering him what to do, no less. Well. at least she had the ability to make herself clear, he had to admit. Her threat to push Elsie in Dr Clarkson's arms had hit the mark. Perhaps he should actually do something. He checked the clock. Nearly three. If he waited any longer, it would be too late for a proper afternoon walk. With her, with Elsie, _his_ Elsie! suddenly feeling very brazen, he went to ask the dreaded Mrs P to prepare a basket. That taken care of, he straightened his waistcoat and jacket, knocked on Elsie's office door and went in.

'Mr Carson, what can I do for you?' she asked, but her warm smile encouraged him.

'I would be honoured if you'd accompany me in a walk to the lake, Mrs Hughes,' he said stiffly and bowed. She grinned and he felt his cheeks burn.

'I would love to, Mr Carson and you don't have to bow for me,' she said, still smiling.

He couldn't help himself, he didn't know what to do and so he bowed again. She laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

'Let me get my hat and shawl,' she said and he took the opportunity to pick up a small gift-wrapped parcel from his desk drawer that had sat there for weeks, sneak into the kitchen and fetch the basket.

'Don't you dare mess this up!' Mrs Patmore growled. Honestly, the cheek of that woman.

~oOo~

They had lost themselves in plans, timetables and study schedules and it had to be well past tea time, Dr Clarkson realised when he felt his stomach growl.

'Dear me, it seems we've forgotten the time!' A glance at the clock told him his stomach had been correct. He smiled at his companion. 'Isobel, may I invite you to have dinner with me? I'm sure Janet and Mrs Lewis will have something ready anyway.' He rang and the maid appeared. 'Dinner will be served in half an hour,' she confirmed.

'That's settled then. If you accept my invitation, that is,' he said, realising she hadn't answered him yet. 'I'd be happy to, Richard,' Isobel smiled. 'I'm sorry to have taken so much of your time, but we have made great progress with the school plans.'

'That we did. I think we're just about ready to start the course,' he agreed.

The soup was excellent, and during the main course of roasted pork and potatoes Isobel decided to test the waters.

'I'm sorry my visit prevented you to see Mrs Hughes,' she said.

'It wasn't an appointment,' he assured her. 'I just wanted to take her outside for a walk, to help her build up her strength.'

'You take very good care of her.'

'I suppose I do, yes, perhaps even more than is required. I like her, I've found I can rely on her when staff members fall ill. I couldn't believe my ears when that ignorant fool of a butler told me he couldn't spare anyone to look after her because some Duke came to dinner. The woman was almost dying, for heaven's sake. Well, you know all about that. If it weren't for you, I don't know…thank you again Isobel, for being the best nurse ever.'

'You're welcome,' she smiled. 'But what about these walks, do you feel you have to protect her from the gruesome butler?'

He grinned. 'Perhaps I do, although I believe in the end you and I managed to scare him sufficiently. No, it's something else…I like her company. She's a lovely woman, intelligent and kind, and I think she's more important to that household than anyone realises, least of all Mr Carson.'

'Cora does,' Isobel told him, 'you've noticed that as well.'

'I know that, yes. But still…I'm very fond of Elsie.'

'It's Elsie now, hm? Are you thinking of marrying her?' Isobel asked bluntly.

'Well…the thought has crossed my mind, I would have to say.'

She was speechless.

~oOo~

**A/N Thank you! for staying with me, all reads and reviews are appreciated and cherished! **


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

**A/N So sorry, this is probably not what many of you lovely reviewers want to read, but there it is…**

~oOo~

Elsie paced through her bedroom, feeling utterly confused. Just when she had been about ready to give up on Mr Carson, he had to invite her for an afternoon at the lakeside and turn her world upside down again. He had been kind. He had been attentive. He had offered her his arm and had been – she was still recovering from the shock- charming. He had given her compliments – not quite the usual boring ones, about her being an efficient and dutiful housekeeper, the ones that had always made her feel a little sad, and had sometimes even caused her crying herself to sleep at night.

No, he had told her how he admired her ability to be a strict housekeeper and at the same time being the one person the staff went to when in trouble, or feeling homesick. Even the male staff felt better after a touch of her sweet kindness and sensible words – including Mr Barrow.

They had walked towards the lake, where he had brought her to his favourite spot, a sunny patch where a large old willow tree spread its branches out over the water, caressing the surface, and an old stone bench stood in the shadow of an oak tree, overlooking the lake. It was a beautiful place. He had took off his jacket and spread it out on the bench for her to it on and unpacked the basket. A linen napkin was spread out, a flask of coffee, a thick slice of Mrs P's chocolate and raspberry cake and some fresh fruit appeared. She had felt relaxed in his company, a feeling she had been craving for many years.

'I have never told you exactly how important you are to me, Mrs Hughes. If it weren't for you, I'd be a dried up old fool, always ranting about propriety and manners… now I'm just an old fool who can't see the wonderful woman right before him until he almost loses her.'

Mr Carson had stared over the lake when he said that, but he had found her hand and patted it. She didn't know what to do…so she did nothing.

'You mean a lot to me, Mrs Hughes,' he finished.

'Well, that.. thank you Mr Carson, but… why tell me now?'

'Because I realised I might lose you. Dr Clarkson spends a lot of time with you.'

'He does,' Elsie said.

'He might take you away from us.'

'He might. And what would you do to prevent that?' she asked, having noticed the _us_ instead of a much more wanted _me. _'What do you offer me instead?'

He looked bewildered.

'You are very important to me, Mrs Hughes. In my position a trustworthy housekeeper is indispensable. I…'

She stood, suddenly feeling very tired. 'Thank you Mr Carson. I'm sorry, I should have known better. I thought…excuse me,' and she'd ran off.

~oOo~

Mrs Patmore had noticed Elsie walking alone to her sitting room, followed ten minutes later by the arrival of Mr Carson, who looked positively dumbfounded. She sighed. Good Lord, it could not be possible…!?

She dried her hands and caught him in he corridor, knowing it was going to be a difficult conversation she steered him to his pantry and closed the door firmly behind them.

'I don't understand, Mrs Patmore,' he said. 'I was being kind, I was polite, I was behaving gentlemanly. I told her how much I admired her. You had packed us coffee and your famous chocolate cake, which she is fond of, and still something went wrong.'

'Did you pay her compliments, like I said?'

'Oh yes, I told her how much I admire her ability to be stern to staff and a comfort at the same time.'

'Hm, that's...well, it could be worse I suppose. Have you told her she looks very well today?'

'I...no, I didn't think of that,' he had to admit. Beryl sighed once again.

'Honestly, Mr Carson. Image you two being married and going to bed. Would you know what to do with her?'

'Mrs Patmore! I don't think that's appropriate! We're talking about Mrs Hughes!' He blushed furiously.

'We are indeed, and that's because Mrs Hughes is made of other stuff and she needs to be loved!' Beryl snapped. 'By a man, if you know what I mean. The doctor clearly loves her, you say you do but all I see is a man not wanting to lose his trusted colleague.'

'But I bought her a present!'

'What did she say about that?'

'I never got to…she walked away before I could give it to her.'

'And why was that?'

He gave her a rapport on their outing.

'I have to say, you didn't start too bad. The part of not seeing what's in front of you until you almost lose it is very good.'

'I got that from a novel.'

'I see. You messed up after that, though. I don't know what to do now, Mr Carson. I'm out of advices. You're on your own.'

She turned and went for the door, leaving him once again clueless.

'By the way, what present did you have for her?' she asked before leaving.

'A book. About the history of estates in Yorkshire. I thought she might like that, seeing as she works in one.'

'Good thing you didn't get to give her that, Mr Carson. Good evening.'

~oOo~

The next morning presented Elsie with one beautiful, white rose. Attached to the stem was a small envelope.

~oOo~

**TBC **


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